The Chronicles Of Luke And Lorelai
by damnmydooah
Summary: The PTB have another bedtime story to tell. Follow up to "Original Sin". LL


**THE CHRONICLES OF LUKE AND LORELAI**

Disclaimer: Well, I _do_ own the PTB, and if they're omnipotent, by extension I should own everything in the world, right? Okay, so that's not gonna fly. Bla bla bla they'renotminecakes.

Rating: R, I guess. I used the word fuck. Although there's no "r" in fuck.

Author's Note: So I was ready to post this little thingy like, three times already. But every time something came up or I just refrained from posting it at that moment. Why? I don't know! All I know is that for the past two weeks I've been wearing the wrong size skin. Figure it out. I'm gonna Kazaa Lite Hoobastank.

Author's Note II: Because I like follow ups. This is one. To "Original Sin". Which I loved. Because I wrote it. Not that that's a guarantee for me loving it, but you catch my drift. And I seem to recall some other people somewhat liking it as well. So there you go.

Author's Note c: Big thanks to Kasey and Ivy for writing lots LMAO's and LOL's in the sidelines. A general one to CommaGirl, not for beta-ing this story, because she _forgot_. But that's okay, because all she would have done was force me to use more commas. But I love her anyway. All three of you rock. I thank your parents for reproducing.

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The Chronicles Of Luke And Lorelai

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Hi there. Remember us? No? Let us refresh your memory. A couple of months ago we told you a story about how two certain people in a certain small town in Connecticut got together. Or rather, how we made them get together. Still nothing? Okay, quick recap:

Male: Luke Danes. Female: Lorelai Gilmore. Situation: Another godforsaken festival. Plotline: None, really. Denouement: Lorelai getting horny and wanting coffee and telling Luke to fuck her.

Remember now? It was called "Original Sin". Or, as we like to call it, "How Luke got Dr. Smith, ophthalmologist, a new swimming pool". Catchy title, no?

Anyway, since there's nothing to do up here but sit around a table and play bridge (for some reason, nobody here knows the rules to poker, regular or strip) we'd like to tell you a bit more about everybody's favorite couple.

We're... something that way (just assume that we're everything. Because we are).

The story we're going to tell you basically goes like this:

Luke and Lorelai, sitting in a tree

K-I-S-S-I-N-G

First comes love

Then comes marriage

Then comes Lukey with the baby carriage

But to tell it like that would be boring. And short. And we don't like short. We're very long-winded.

We ended our little tale with Luke dragging Lorelai upstairs to do as she had instructed him (fuck her). Now of course Luke, being the honorable man that he is, didn't just fuck her. Well, maybe he did the first time. You see, years of pent up emotion, attraction and horniness caused him to throw all caution to the wind.

Once upstairs, he ripped off all her clothing in 3.2 seconds, ripped off his own even faster, and proceeded to do her like a gorilla who meets a female for the first time in ten years.

In short, rough and fast. With loud grunts.

Normally, Lorelai would have protested vehemently to this kind of behaviour, being a girl who liked slow and tender love with mushy words whispered into her ear. But since she was under our influence, she went along with it. Very enthusiastically. And loudly. A little too loudly, if you ask Taylor.

Three and a half minutes went by, filled with grunts, sighs, screams and that nasty sound of flesh slapping against flesh. Then Luke gave one last, powerful thrust (We know it's a cliche, but it really happened that way. Ooh, we made a rhyme!), let out a roar to wake the dead, and had an organism. Sorry, _orgasm_. We've been watching too many French and Saunders reruns. He then did a weird little twisty thing with his hips to ensure Lorelai's pleasure as well.

Isn't he considerate, ladies and gentlemen?

So, after Lorelai had nearly scratched open his back, Luke collapsed on top of her. They lay there for a while, both of them panting heavily. Well, Lorelai would have panted heavily if it weren't for the sheer weight that was Luke's body almost crushing her. When she had the feeling that she was turning blue, she tapped him on the back and told him to roll over.

What's that? Are you getting bored? Look, we told you we were long-winded, didn't we? We have at least three more acts of sex to describe, all different speeds and positions.

Okay, okay, easy with the yawning. We get it.

To make a short story long, uh, long story short:

Luke and Lorelai had sex three more times that night. First with Lorelai on top, then Luke behind her and finally, when dawn was breaking through and they were both nearly exhausted, the slow and tender kind that Lorelai liked.

When they finally went to sleep, Luke behind Lorelai spooning her, we couldn't help but look at them and be touched by the lovely picture they made.

Then we sat around for an hour, being thoroughly depressed by the terrible state our own love lives were in.

See, being omnipotent is kind of fun. Heck, it's loads of fun. We can do anything. We can make the sky turn purple and the oceans orange. We can make people believe they've seen aliens. We can make Mr. George Double-U Bush break out into the Funky Chicken while addressing the nation on television.

We almost did that once.

But, being the PTB (for lack of a better phrase) has serious drawbacks, the main being that we're sexless. And non-corporeal, for that matter. Aside from causing some major sexual confusions, it also causes us being unable to have sex. Because there's nothing to have sex with.

Now, we know what you're thinking. You're going: "But you're supernatural beings. Surely you can't be bothered by something as insignificant as sexual urges?"

Think again, my diminutive friend. We're majorly sexually frustrated up here. Why do you think we watched Luke and Lorelai have sex all night? We need to get our kicks somewhere.

Anyway, enough about us and back to our story, The Chronicles of Luke and Lorelai.

The next morning (Well, the next afternoon, really. Thank goodness Caesar was opening the diner that morning.) Luke and Lorelai woke up in each other's arms, grinned goofily and said "Good morning" with their hands in front of their mouths. Then they got up, both wincing painfully, and took a shower together, during which they had more sex.

These kids. They were insatiable.

Then Luke made the love of his life some coffee and told her in no uncertain terms that she was the love of his life and that he wanted to be with her forever and that under no circumstances was she gonna die first. His words were this:

"You. Me. I love you. Forever. I go first. Okay?"

Lorelai responded by saying that she would always love him too, that she wanted to marry him in the moonlight and have many babies with him:

"Sure. Me too. Shall we tie the knot? And babies, too."

Then they had some more sex.

They got married two weeks later in the town square, standing under the chuppa. Taylor was the only one who protested that they weren't Jewish, but Miss Patty shut him up by sitting on his face. He was buried three days later, and Luke was surprised to find a couple of tears sliding down his cheeks during the service.

But let's not dwell on Taylor's untimely demise, or Miss Patty's time in jail (she got released on charges of self-defense and came back with a strapping young prison guard on her arm).

So, Luke and Lorelai were married. It was a lovely little ceremony; Lorelai looked beautiful and radiant (she was already pregnant) and Luke looked very buff in his new tuxedo. Rory looked like the cheating little whore she was.

Ah, yes. Let's dwell on that a bit, shall we? As you all know, Rory slept with Dean, her married ex-boyfriend. After the big fight with her mother, she did some soulsearching and decided that she quite liked her new persona. So she went along with the role she had created for herself, made a shopping trip to Whores-R-Us and stocked up on short leather skirts, tiny shirts with plunging necklines and every shade of red lipstick you can imagine. Then she went with Emily to really _do_ Europe. She gave up on her dream to be a journalist and set up the very first brothel in Stars Hollow. She now goes by the name of Madam Rory. She's very good at what she does, and Dean is actually one of her best customers. Lindsay finally found a job she was good at, too.

Isn't it funny how things can change just like that?

Over the next couple of months, Luke had to endure a very pregnant and very emotional Lorelai. She was, of course, pregnant with twins.

Lorelai's pregnancy was a funny one. First of all, her sexual need skyrocketed. She tried to do Luke anywhere, anytime. Normally, Luke would have jumped at the change to bang his wife 24/7, were it not for the second thing that was funny about her pregnancy.

For some reason, her digestive system was no longer able to work its magic to keep Lorelai the lovely slender woman that she was. Instead, it just seemed to give up and go: "What the hell do I care? You had it coming, woman."

So, Lorelai grew fat. She grew humongous. If she weren't pregnant, she and Miss Patty could have made big bucks sumo wrestling for money. In short, she was one big tub of lard.

And every time she wobbled over to Luke, her squinty little eyes gleaming with need, he had to make up some excuse in order to prevent being squashed to death by her many layers of fat:

"Sorry, not now, I'm really busy," when only Kirk was sitting in the diner, or

"I can't, I have a shipment of pickles coming," when the stockroom was overflowing with jars of pickles, or

"Not tonight, I have a headache."

Luke learned to be very inventive those nine horrible months. He also got very sexually frustrated, which earned Rory, sorry, _Madam_ Rory, a lot of money.

Then the time came for Lorelai to have her babies. Afraid that she would damage his truck in a "What's Eating Gilbert Grape?" kind of way, Luke called an ambulance to take her to the hospital in Hartford. In the delivery room, Lorelai nearly squeezed his hand to smithereens, yelled that she hated him for doing this to her, and had her babies, a boy and a girl, who, according to tradition, they named William and Emily. Or, to be precise, William Richard Danes and Emily Victoria Danes.

They were lovely babies. Both had shockingly blue eyes, while William was soon found to have Lorelai's mass of dark curls and Emily Luke's limpid faded brown locks.

We did that. We love cliches, really we do, but it would have been so boring to make Emily into a mini-Lorelai and William into a mini-Luke. So we evilly twisted it around. What we didn't see coming, however, was that, at age fifteen, Emily grew so frustrated with her hair that she dyed it pink with a cheap department store dye which caused it to fall out and never grow back and that William decided to become a homosexual simply because his hair was so beautiful. Never mind the fact that not even Ricky Martin's shaking bon-bon could get him the least bit excited.

Hey, we're allowed to make mistakes now and then.

Back to our couple.

Fortunately for Luke, Lorelai's digestive system kicked in right after she was done with breastfeeding and she gradually grew back into her old figure. Luke was happy to have sex with her again whenever he wanted, but not before discussing with her that he would really like some kind of definite actions taken to ensure that she would never get pregnant again.

He got a vasectomy. It was not his measure of choice, but Lorelai used her Louis Armstrong voice on him again and he agreed simply to protect his eardrums.

Let's skip ahead a bit, shall we? We sense more yawns coming on.

Over the next thirty years or so, Luke and Lorelai led a happy life. They had their sex, raised their children. The Dragonfly was succesful as always and the diner was packed every day. Except for a few tragedies (Miss Patty tripping over her own fat and getting impaled by a white picket fence, human-Kirk losing his leg to a particularly ferocious cat-Kirk the Second), everything was just fine and dandy in the little town of Stars Hollow.

And then they died. Yes, Luke and Lorelai died. Together, at the same time. For some reason, one night when they were lying in bed, holding each other's age-wrinkled hands, they both blew out their last breaths at the very same moment. It was very mysterious.

Okay. Sorry. But you didn't actually _believe_ that, did you? Sure, they died, and they died at the same time, but there was nothing mysterious about it.

We did it. Again. Guilty. Sue us. All you'll get is a really old deck of cards and a rickety table and chairs. All non-corporeal. Bummer for you.

Let us explain. No. Let us sum up.

Luke was sick. He was inflicted with the same disease his parents died of. Cancer.

We hate cancer. It's a horrible disease. It's mean and sneaky. It turns your own body into your own worst enemy. Unfortunately, not even we can do anything about it.

Well, that's not entirely true. We _can_ do something about it, but we're just not allowed to. And we know right now you're going, "Huh? How can that be? You're the PTB, remember? You're omnipotent beings! You can do anything!" And you're right. But we have the sneaking suspicion that we are not of the highest rank up here. Or maybe it's just that we would be violated with the rules of nature, or fate, or kizmet. Call it whatever you want. Bottomline is: We can't do anything. Sorry. We don't like it either.

Anyway. Luke was sick. He knew this, and he knew that he was dying. He had gone to the doctor and the doctor had told him there was nothing to be done. So he dragged his seventy-year-old body back to Stars Hollow, all the while trying to decide whether or not he would tell Lorelai. He didn't.

This was the part where we cried our non-corporeal tears. Never had we loved Luke so much was we did then. The love he had for his wife and the need he felt to spare her any and all heartbreak overwhelmed us so much that we felt that we needed to do something. Unable to cure his disease for him and ensure the couple a long and happy life, we decided to do the next best thing.

It was a lovely winter night. The smell of snow was in the air, something Lorelai had picked up on that afternoon. She and Luke were asleep in their bed, exhausted after some slow geriatric lovemaking.

It was then, with a quick wave of our non-corporeal hands, that we took their last breaths and entrusted their souls to the afterlife.

We figured if we couldn't ensure them a long and happy life on this plain, we'd give them a long and happy life on the other. In short, a long and happy afterlife.

They were found the next morning by Rory and buried with soft smiles and silent tears. A law was instated that said that the diner should be preserved the way it was and a memorial plaque for Lorelai was hung behind the counter, over the coffeemaker.

In the days after their deaths, some people shook their fists at the heavens and cursed us for taking two of the best people in the world away from them, but we feel it was one of the best decisions we've ever made.

For one, they know the rules to poker. Regular _and _strip.

END

A/N: Banana is the funniest word in the British language. And I say British, because it's not funny in American. Oh, and reviews would be nice, too.


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